The Great Westchester Massiekur
by Yesterdaze
Summary: The Pretty Committee might sneer at Claire's dorky Keds and Gap jeans, but behind their allknowing smirks, how well are they going to survive when Claire goes away to Hollywood?
1. Chapter 1

**The Great Westchester Massie-kur**

**Note: This will not be in the same format as the Clique books are!**

**Disclaimer: The Clique is not mine, kay?**

**Chapter One**

Massie Block fanned her shiny hair out over her shoulders. She tugged at her flowing pink tank top and turned around so she could make sure her denim short-shorts hugged her butt. _I look perfect, _she willed herself to say in her mind. It became a silent mantra, assuring herself of her confidence.

She smiled into the mirror, straightened her posture a little more, and pictured a glittering tiara wrapped around her head. _Perfect, _she repeated again. To soothe her jittery nerves (yes, Massie can be unconfident sometimes too), she took a few deep yoga breaths. She mentally switched to a different mantra as she fumbled around for her shoes. _I will be the prettiest girl in the room._

"Sure," she mumbled. "I can be on camera for Merri-Lee Marvel, broadcasting live to millions of TVs, but nooo. I can't even work up the confidence when it comes time to go to a going-away party for Claire." She froze, instantly struck with realization, and forced her eyes to hold the tears back.

Suddenly, the shoes she was looking for came crashing down. The metallic pink wedges, which Massie set on top of her wardrobe to avoid scuffs, got bumped and hit Massie's spine. She put her mantra on pause to squeak in pain and shake the shoes off.

There came a feminine giggle from the doorway. Massie glared out of the corner of her eye, annoyed that someone was mocking her. She turned her head, and her heart sank right down to her ankles.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**A/N: This will be nothing like the Clique books. No designer names, no "ah-nnoying" speak, and no completely bratty behavior. I'm trying to make it a little more realistic. This takes place after DLFL.**

"Hey!" Claire greeted brightly. She skipped over to the spotless rug Massie was laying on. She reached down to hug Massie, but Massie jumped up and pretended not to notice Claire's outstretched arms.

Massie raised a freshly plucked eyebrow. "Are you really going to wear that to the party?" She slid a hand on her hip.

Claire's insides churned. The outfit she had spent hours shopping for wasn't cute? She wanted to run into her room, throw it out, and crawl into the party in pajamas.

"Well?" Massie gestured to Claire's outfit. She glanced down at her clothes. The strapless white-and-hot pink polka-dotted mini-dress looked okay to her, as well as the super-skinny white Capri pants, matching plastic bangles, and hot pink flip-flops.

But luckily, Claire had learned to deal with Massie's self-proclaimed fashion guru attitude. Silently thanking all the practice she had acquired from countless mirror conversations, she copied Massie, raising an eyebrow. Only hers wasn't so freshly-plucked. "Yep."

Massie coughed lightly, showing her disdain. "Don't you think it's a little too… 7th grade?" She casually leaned against the iPod-white closet door, obviously showing no concern that she was making her best friend feel like a fashionless kindergartener on the night of her going-away party.

Still, Claire remained calm. She knew the snobby insults were Massie's strange way of showing how much she was going to miss Claire. "We're in seventh grade," she reminded Massie patiently.

A soft giggle floated from Massie's icy pink lips. "Hardly! Tomorrow's the first day of 8th. Well, for TPC anyway. You're going to get an _on-set tutor._"

It was highly unlikely that Claire would slap Massie. Not now, not ever. If she did, Massie would use the fact that she was across the country to her advantage and make out with Cam. Still, a big red mark on Massie's face would be completely unsightly, and she didn't want to take any chances. She strode out, leaving a secretly furious Claire in her room.

Claire could hear Massie's heavy shoes clop down the stairs. She hugged a purple boyfriend pillow and secretly wished that life would just freeze in Westchester without her there. That way, she wouldn't have to wonder what they were doing.


End file.
